Black Dog Blues
by koinekid
Summary: Jennifer moved close enough for McKay to count the freckles on the bridge of her nose. Her breath caressed his skin as she spoke. "You hit a bull's-eye with one of your next three shots, and I'll let you kiss me."


**Disclaimer: **MGM owns SGA; KOI does NOT.

**Rating:** T for suggestive dialogue

**Genre:** Romance / General

**Spoilers: **Quarantine, Trio

**Time Frame:** Late Season 4

**Stargate: Atlantis**

**Black Dog Blues**

**by koinekid**

_Distance to target? Approximately 7.5 feet. Elevation? Eye level. Air resistance? Over such a short distance, negligible. Force needed to—?_

"I know that look, McKay." Jennifer gestured with the neck of her beer bottle. "It's just a game. Stop over-thinking it."

Lowering his arm, McKay turned from the dartboard to face her. "Easy for you to say. You've nailed every throw."

"Not _every_ throw."

McKay snorted. "How many beers do I owe you now?"

"Fine, every throw." Jennifer grinned. "But I've been playing a lot longer than you have."

Try as he might, McKay couldn't stay mad at Jennifer, not when she smiled at him like that. And she'd been smiling at him a lot recently. Since his breakup with Katie became public knowledge, he and Jennifer had spent a great deal of time together. Lunch was still reserved for his gate team or underlings from the science department, but breakfast belonged to Jennifer now. Lately, so did two or three nights a week at the base's collocated club.

A fellow genius, Jennifer knew how difficult it was to shed the label of recluse. During her Harvard days, the physician dated rarely, preferring to pour her energies into her studies. At least that's what she told McKay. He imagined studying came easy for someone of Jennifer's intellect and figured she must be downplaying her social life to make him feel better.

"Get a lot of practice scamming beer off college boys in Boston, did you, Keller?"

"You know it, McKay."

Her laughter echoed across the club, attracting the notice of officers and enlisted men alike. McKay envied them. From their seats they could drink in Jennifer's gorgeous form at their leisure, memorizing every curve and slope made evident by her hip-hugging jeans and skin-tight, cream-colored halter. Their gazes could linger on the blonde hair that tickled her bare shoulders before delicate, manicured fingers swept it aside. And their eyes could travel confidently across the trail of freckles ornamenting those sun-kissed shoulders. McKay, meanwhile, had to content himself with stealthy, stolen glances whenever she wasn't paying attention. He was sure Jennifer had caught him ogling her more than once, but she had the good grace not to mention it.

"Most of those Boston boys wised up before they were down six beers though," Jennifer continued. "You're either really competitive, or you like spending time with me."

McKay turned back to the board to hide his blush. "How do you figure?"

"Well, think about it," she said. "I can't possibly drink seven more beers tonight."

"I thought it was six."

"After this throw it'll be seven."

His shoulders slumped. "Oh."

Jennifer squeezed his arm, and her bright smile took the sting out of her teasing. "If I average two beers a night, you're guaranteeing yourself four more dates. I'm starting to think _you're_ scamming _me_."

Mouth suddenly dry, McKay reached for his beer. Had Jennifer implied the two of them were dating?

"Do you know what we need?" Jennifer said. Her hand still rested on his arm. "We need a bet that you want to win. Anything come to mind?"

As she spoke, McKay fixated on her lips. Pale pink and shimmering thanks to tonight's lip gloss, they looked delectable as they curved into a smile. Something most definitely came to mind, but he could never ask for it, not from her. He shrugged.

"It's up to me, then? Okay, let's see." Jennifer rubbed her chin. "We can't cover one another's shifts because we're in different departments. In med school my roommates and I used to gamble over who did the laundry, but Atlantis has its own laundry service. Ah, I've got it."

Snapping her fingers, Jennifer moved close enough for McKay to count the freckles on the bridge of her nose. Her breath caressed his skin as she spoke. "You hit a bull's-eye with one of your next three shots, and I'll let you kiss me."

McKay coughed. "What?"

"You can kiss me, press your lips to my lips, your tongue to my tongue." Rosiness crept into her cheeks. "What do you say? Is it a bet?"

"What do you get if I lose?"

Her blush intensified. "Doesn't matter 'cause you won't lose."

"Are you forgetting my last throw? You can see the hole in the masonry from here."

"C'mon, where's that legendary Rodney McKay brand of confidence?" Jennifer stepped back and extended a hand. "Do we have a bet?"

One more look at her perfect pink lips sealed his fate.

* * *

Had he an inkling that he'd be throwing darts that evening, McKay would have spent that morning in the club measuring the precise distance between the wall and the throw line and calculating the force and trajectory needed to score a direct hit on the _black dog_, that tiny circle within a circle at the center of the board. Why couldn't he and Jennifer have played pool instead? With its level playing surface and predictable outcomes, pool was a perfect marriage of physics and geometry. And thanks to his previous "dates" with Jennifer, McKay was at least mildly proficient at the game.

Was that why Jennifer proposed her once-in-a-lifetime bet during darts, a sport he'd yet to wrap his head around? So that, when he failed, she wouldn't have to go through with the kiss? His suspicious look was met with a smile of pure encouragement, leaving him with the impression that Jennifer might actually want to kiss him.

_Of course she does,_ his mind shot back. _You're her pet project. _The kiss was probably a kind of graduation ceremony, after which he'd be released to flail about in the dating pool on his own, and she'd turn her attention to someone younger and better-looking. Besides, to a beauty like Jennifer, a kiss probably held about as much meaning as a handshake.

Though he judged his reasoning sound, McKay decided not to let it bother him. Whatever her intent, Jennifer had made the bet. Who was he to question her? Anyway, it was too late to move to a pool table as the last open one had just been claimed by a pair of Air Force lieutenants. A deep breath banished the vestigial negativity from his system, and McKay stepped up to the throw line.

The dart would travel in a parabolic arc, so he needed to aim higher than his intended target. Lining up his shot with the outer ring of the bull's-eye, he pulled back and let fly. Reflexively, his eyes screwed shut.

"Nice shot, McKay!"

He felt Jennifer's hands massaging his shoulders and heard her happy laughter. _I did it?_ He opened his eyes and—

"Are you kidding me?" He gestured at the board and the dart stuck in the triple ring almost three inches above the bull's-eye. "That wasn't even close."

"But it's a triple 20. That's sixty points, McKay, the highest score possible in a single throw. A double bull is worth only fifty."

_What the hell's a double bull? _"Points aren't really my concern right now, Keller."

She leaned close until her mouth was an inch from his ear – closer than that damn dart was to the target. "Keeping your eyes on the prize, huh?"

Despite his agitation he grinned. "If I did that, I couldn't aim."

"That might explain your accuracy."

"Hey!"

"Kidding," she said. "Try keeping the tip pointed slightly up when you release, and don't lean over the _oche_. It messes up your balance."

McKay lowered his eyes to the floor and noted the position of the raised wooden rail marking the throw line. "Stand up straight, got it."

"And for goodness' sake keep your eyes open."

His second throw was nearly dead-on; unfortunately, it bounced off the wiring outlining the black dog and clattered to the floor. It was not McKay's first bounce out of the evening, so he knew better than to request a do-over. _No such thing in darts,_ Jennifer had told him.

Behind his back, the lieutenants around the pool table snickered. McKay flushed a deep crimson.

"Good news, Keller," he said. "One more shot like that, and you're off the hook."

"Who says I want to be?" Gentle but insistent hands turned him to face her. Tilting her chin upward, she leaned forward and planted a feathery kiss against his cheek. "Now take your shot and claim your prize."

His hand covered the spot she had kissed. "I think I got it already."

She shook her head. "Win the bet, and you'll see what a _real_ kiss from Jennifer Keller is like." She turned toward the club's dining section. "I'll wait in our booth. Find me when you're finished."

"Aren't you going to make sure I...?" He indicated the board.

"You'll be honest with me. I know it."

With that, she strode away, leaving McKay to face his last test alone. Before turning back, he shot the lieutenants a dirty look. Slack-jawed, they laughed no longer. One of them offered McKay a thumbs-up. Ignoring the fly-boy, and resisting the urge to offer a cruder hand gesture in return, McKay stepped up to the oche.

He held the dart in his hand a long while.

* * *

Nervous laughter greeted McKay as he approached what Jennifer called _their_ booth. Chosen at random the night of their first drink, it was now where they wound down every evening they shared at the club.

"I was starting to think you'd abandoned me," she said.

McKay shook his head. The thought had crossed his mind. "Never."

Jennifer slid over to the wall and patted the bench beside her. To her evident annoyance, he sank into the seat facing her instead.

"Don't keep me in suspense, McKay." Her hands reached across the table to grasp one of his. "Did Mighty Casey strike out, or do I get my kiss?"

McKay wished Jennifer would keep her hands to herself. Her teasing he could handle, her shoulder bumps too. But there was something so intimate about the way her thumbs stroked his knuckles; it stirred feelings in him he could not afford to indulge. He should end this – all of this – tonight.

"Jennifer..."

Her face blossomed into a smile. "Yes, _Rodney_?"

The sound of his name on her lips made him groan, and all thoughts of ending their quasi-relationship fled. _The longer you drag it out,_ a part of him protested, _the more it will hurt._ That might be true, but Jennifer's sweet smile had become a fixture in his life. He simply wasn't ready to give her up.

"Jennifer, you're in luck."

"Oh, yeah?" She leaned forward and puckered her lips.

"I got close, _really_ close." McKay forced a chuckle, cringing at how hollow it sounded. "You almost had to pay up, but lucky you."

She frowned. "Rodney, I wouldn't have made the bet if I wasn't willing to pay up, if I didn't _want _to pay up."

"Just stop, okay? I appreciate what you're trying to do, but... Look, I have an early shift tomorrow. Why don't we call it an evening?"

He made to slide out of the booth, but Jennifer refused to release his hand. And the firm set of her jaw told him he'd be staying put until they hashed this out. Sighing, he settled down.

"You're not going anywhere, McKay, not until I get my prize."

"I thought you said it didn't matter."

"I lied. I want it. Now."

McKay blushed, aware of how that statement could be misconstrued. He decided to placate her if only to save her from embarrassment. "Fine. What'll it be? Public humiliation? Want me to shave my head? Name it."

"Right here." Again she patted the seat beside her. This time he acquiesced, relocating to her side of the booth without putting up a fight.

"Put your hands on my waist."

"Jennifer—"

"Do it, McKay."

Her cross expression permitted no refusal. Hands shaking, he took hold of her slender waist, barely suppressing the moan that threatened to spill from his throat. He lost that battle when her hands found his shoulders. Odd form of public humiliation, this.

"Rodney." Her voice and her features softened. "I want my kiss."

"Even if I'd won, I wouldn't kiss you on a bet."

She huffed. "We had our first date because of a bet. Why not our first kiss?"

He mumbled something about what a kiss should mean and not wanting to take advantage of her kindness. It struck him as lame – even for him – and he wished for something, anything to stop the seemingly inexhaustible stream of words flowing from his mouth. Mercifully, Jennifer obliged. What she said, he was not expecting.

"We've been going out for a month, and you haven't kissed me yet. Don't you want to?"

"More than anything, but—" He stopped cold. "Did you say...? Are we going out?"

"You pick me up at my room, and we go other places together. Kind of fits the definition."

"Let me get this straight. By _going out_, you mean that you and I are a couple? A real couple, not just for show?"

"For show?" Frustration pinched her brow. "Sympathy might get you one date, but not a dozen. I'm going out with you because I like you. A lot, you jerk."

"You know," Rodney said, cracking a genuine smile. "You probably deserve to be with someone who could have figured that out."

"I don't know what I deserve, but I know what I want."

"What's that?"

She said nothing, just looked at him expectantly. For once in his life, the densest man in two galaxies took a hint.

Instinct drove the kiss to a depth he hadn't planned. His tongue probed for an opening, and her lips parted without hesitation. Her tongue's first caress sent tingles down his spine, and every sensation that had not its origin in Jennifer receded. Losing track of where he was, McKay moaned into her mouth. Her answering whimpers echoed low in her throat.

No longer content to remain stationary, his hands roamed. Up her back they went, rubbing, exploring, blazing a trail up the ridges of her spine to the peak of her neck beneath the gossamer waterfall of her hair and around to track those freckles that had so fascinated him earlier in the evening.

Their upper bodies molded together as closely as their lips, trapping Jennifer's arms in their raised position. They wrapped around his neck to draw him closer.

When breath demanded they stop, McKay leaned his forehead against hers. "Did I mention how very close I got to the bull's-eye?" he said.

Grinning, she pulled him in for a second kiss. And a third.

* * *

"Hey, looks like someone else shot a triple 20." Jennifer nodded toward the dartboard as they passed by hand-in-hand. Pausing, they walked over.

The Air Force lieutenants had vacated their pool table by that time to be replaced by a jovial group of Marines that McKay thought he recognized. Feeling rather jovial himself, he waved. One of them – he thought her name was _Dizzy _or maybe _Dusty_ – smiled back and acknowledged his and Jennifer's clasped hands with a thumbs-up. This gesture McKay gladly returned.

"She is so not your type, McKay," a voiced purred in his ear.

Chuckling, he turned his attention back to Jennifer where it belonged. His free hand moved up to stroke her cheek. "You're right about that, Keller. Dart sharks are more my style."

He plucked the dart in the triple ring from the board. "Sixty points, huh? So tell me, oh guru mine, what was my other shot worth?"

"Where did you hit?"

He nodded toward the board.

"That's _your_ dart?" Jennifer's eyes narrowed. "But you told me you lost."

"Yeah, but I got really close. See? It's in the green ring just outside the bull's-eye."

Once more, Jennifer's laughter drew looks from across the club, and Rodney was seriously beginning to doubt her sobriety.

"Rodney, that green ring isn't around the bull's-eye. It's part of it."

"But you said the black dog is at the very center of the board."

"The black dog, yes. But the bull's-eye has two segments: the black dog, or double bull, and the single bull, that green ring. Hit either, and you hit a bull's-eye."

"So, I won the bet?"

Jennifer nodded. "Congratulations."

McKay laughed. "How about that? Well, either way, I got my prize."

"You most certainly did not," Jennifer shot back. "The kiss was my prize. You'll have to pick something else now."

"How about another kiss?"

"Out in the open in front of all these people? Okay, if you're sure that's all you want."

"As enjoyable as cementing our relationship in the minds of our coworkers sounds, I was thinking of a more private venue."

"Why, Dr. McKay, are you asking me back to your place for..." She made air quotes. "...coffee?"

"Unless you think it's too soon for coffee."

Jennifer giggled. "Mmm, I'd love a cup, but don't you have an early shift tomorrow?"

"One of the perks of being the boss is I can come in late."

"Works for me." She licked her lips. "How late are you thinking?"

"Depends." McKay grinned wickedly. "How thirsty are you, Jennifer?"

"Rodney, my dear," she said. "I could drink for days."

_**The End**_

_**Thanks for reading. Reviews are appreciated.**_


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